Glimmers of hope...

It's been the hardest thing in the world to watch my Dad lying there on life support machines and to know that his lungs, his kidneys, his digestive system... are not able to work for themselves. From time to time, they lower the sedation and switch off the ventilator - just to see if he can begin to breathe for himself - but he's not able to do that yet. It's hard to see all the tubes and machines: tubes in his nose, draining bile from his stomach and drip feeding him to try and get his digestive system going again; tubes on one side of his neck for the antibiotics, blood pressure medication, painkillers and sedatives; tubes on the other side of his neck, taking his blood in and out of his body to the dialysis machine that is doing the work of his kidneys.. and tubes down his widely gaping mouth to do the breathing his own lungs aren't able to do. You feel so helpless and it's hard to know even what to say or to do when you're there in the intensive care unit with him. 


My brother speaks to him and tells him that he needs to hang in there and get stronger; I also pray for him and reads psalms from the Bible. Last night, when I was praying, I just had an impression that I should worship God and declare His character by singing my Dad's favourite hymn - "How deep the Father's love for us; how vast beyond all measure" - and also another song by the same musician, based on Psalm 23: "The Lord is my Shepherd." It seemed as if Dad's eyebrows flickered from time to time, but it was hard to tell whether he could really hear me, or whether it was just a reflex action like our eyes make when we're sleeping and dreaming.


Just then, my brother arrived, bringing my 11 year old niece to see Dad. I leaned across the bed and said to him, "That's Graham bringing Kasey to see you, and it would really make her day if you were able to open your eyes for her." Amazingly, his eyelids kind of parted a fraction, almost as if he was trying to open them for me.


I headed back to the waiting area with my Mum, while Graham and Kasey went in to see Dad. A few minutes later, Kasey came running to us. "Papa's opened his eyes," she said. Sure enough, Dad had managed to open his eyes, but the effort had caused his heart to race, and the nurse had to give him sedatives and pain medication again. We continued to take turns speaking to him during the evening, but it was hard to tell if he was really aware of our presence.


Just as it was time to go home, I turned to my Mum and said, "Perhaps he can hear us. Tell him that you love him." She was fighting back the tears, but she leaned across the bed and said, "He knows that I love him. We've been together a long time, and he needs to get better and come home so that we can be together for our 60th wedding anniversary."  Suddenly Dad's eyes opened wider again, and he began to move his mouth - almost as if he was trying to speak.  The nurse came over to the bed and explained to him that he can't speak, because there's a tube in his throat.


He's still not really conscious yet, and his lungs and kidneys are still dependent on the machines... but those little signs of life last night gave my Mum a glimmer of hope that she had almost lost. It might be a long haul yet, but she wants to keep hoping and trusting that Dad can come through this. 


We'll be going back to see Dad in the hospital this afternoon. In the meantime, I'm helping Mum by cleaning the house and getting things a bit more in order again. This morning, I also have a doctor's appointment myself. Thank you, everyone, for your emails, phone calls, text messages and prayers.

Hospital update

Many, many thanks to everyone who has skyped, emailed or phoned to express your best wishes and prayers. Yesterday afternoon, my family skyped me to let me know that Dad's condition was critical and that he was on life support machines: respirator for his breathing, dialysis machine to do the work of his kidneys, intraenous antibiotics, drip feeding, and a machine to keep track of his irregular heartbeat. Doctors said that he was gravely ill and the next 48 hours would be critical.


Basically, what seems to have happened is that my Dad's initial surgery on Tuesday went well, but somehow he ended up back in a normal ward instead of in the high dependency ward, and he seemed to be doing so well that they gave him a big three course lunch on Wednesday. He vomited it up, and he's been in pain ever since. The second operation on Friday showed that there was a leak where the two parts of the colon had been rejoined, and intestinal fluid had been leaking into his body, poisoning his system and causing intense pain. His body went into septic shock and his organs began to shut down.


I flew to Scotland last night, my Mum and brother met me at the airport after midnight, and we drove straight to the hospital, where we were allowed to go into the intensive care unit at two o'clock in the morning. Dad was hooked up to various machines, with a night nurse there to watch him constantly. He was sedated, so we don't know if he was aware of our presence (he hasn't really  been conscious since the surgery on Friday) but we spoke to him and prayed with him. We phoned the hospital about ten minutes ago and they say that his condition is still the same.


Thanks for praying for my family. One of the hardest things for my Mum is to know that Dad was doing so well last week before going to hospital, he also seemed to be doing so well after the cancer op, and it now seems highly likely that this setback might have been caused by human error - by the fact that he probably shouldn't have been given the large meal that caused him to throw up and may have been what caused the leak in the colon. Amidst the fear of losing him, there's a feeling of anger that this emergency situation needn't have happened. But we can do nothing about what is in the past; we can only hold on to God in the present and for the future, knowing that Dad is in His care. We'll be going to see him in the hospital again this afternoon.

Dad in Intensive Care... I'm flying to Scotland

Today has been a bit of a nightmare. Doctors said my Dad had double pneumonia and kept him in an isolation room where he was on intravenous antibiotics. But that didn't explain the level of pain, which was so bad that Dad couldn't even speak. Finally a doctor said that the amount of pain was much more than would be normal for the kind of operation he had had, and that they would need to take him for a scan. The scan showed that he had fluid leaking inside his body from the place where they had re-joined the two parts of the colon after removing the cancerous part. He had been warned that this was one of the risks of this operation - that it can happen in a small number of cases - but we had so much hoped that he wouldn't be one of those cases.

So he was rushed back to surgery, where they opened him up again and discovered the leak that had been the source of so much pain. But, apart from the fact that he also has pneumonia, he is so sick that it wasn't possible for the surgeon to sew the colon up again. It would just tear open yet again as he continues to throw up over the weekend (which they say will be the case.) So they've had to put catheters in instead. After the surgery, he was moved to the Intensive Care Unit, where they say that they'll have to work on getting him over the pain and well enough to go home for a while. Then he'll need to go back into hospital at a later date to re-do the surgery and sew the two parts of the colon together again.

It's been hard for my Mum to see him so weak and in so much pain - especially as he had been feeling so well last weekend before going into the hospital. I tried to book a flight home today to be with family at this time, but it was absolutely impossible to find any availability of flights to Scottish airports. I checked eight different airlines, and even looked for flights via places like Newcastle and Birmingham (in England) but everything was fully booked for tonight and also for the next few days. I even packed a bag and went to the airport, trying with three airlines there to get something at short notice, but they simply reaffirmed that there were no flights at all to any of the Scottish airports. With some airlines, there were no free seats at all until next Wednesday (perhaps because this is a holiday weekend in most of Europe.)

Finally I managed to find a flight for tomorrow night, Saturday, arriving in Prestwick at midnight. Prestwick is further from home than Edinburgh or Glasgow, but not too far for my brother to come and pick me up. All being well, I'll be able to see my Dad on Sunday. For now, though, his condition is still rather critical - as he recovers from a second major operation this week, battles with the nausea and vomiting, and also has his strength weakened by having pneumonia at the same time. My family would very much value your prayers this weekend. Thank you.

Not such good news....

It turns out that my Dad's pain level and vomiting were more than would be normal, so they sent him for an x-ray this afternoon and now they've moved him into a ward on his own, where he has started intravenous antibiotics. This is a concern, because it's what happened after his brain surgery three years ago, when they had to re-do the operation and then keep him on intravenous antibiotics for two months. Please join me in praying for the infection to clear up quickly.

Thanks for your prayers...

My Dad went into hospital on Monday and had his operation on Tuesday. They removed part of his colon, and so he's experiencing some pain and discomfort now, but is generally in good spirits. Thank you, everyone, for your prayers. Family and friends are able to visit him in the hospital during the afternoon or evening, and he's trying to make arrangements for an internet connection there so that I can skype him from Spain.

What is God like?

This month, I've been working with a group of 10 - 12 year old girls in our church in Alhaurin de la Torre. We've been looking in the Bible at different pictures of God, and taking time to think through what these insights mean in practice for a young person in the 21st Century. So, for example, last week we considered the fact that God is like an Artist: He is the Creator and I am His unique masterpiece. Tonight we looked at Bible passages which say that God is like a Shepherd: I am valuable to Him and He takes good care of me. Next week, our topic is that God is like a voice: everyone, no matter how young or old they are, can learn how to hear God speaking to them.

As well as studying relevant Bible passages, the girls have been doing creative activities every week to help them remember these Biblical pictures of God. Last week, we made clay models of different aspects of God's creation, and tonight we made delicious cupcakes with marshmallow sheep on them.

Something smells good...

A local supermarket has begun having "today only" special offers on a Saturday. Last weekend the special was rabbit and, when I confessed that I had never eaten rabbit during my several decades of lifetime, Ada suggested we buy one and try it for Sunday lunch. Well, if you've eaten rabbit, you'll know that it's white meat, not all that different from chicken... but there must certainly be a difference when it comes to the smell, because something rather unusual happened in our house at Sunday lunchtime.
Our cats (who usually turn their noses up at fish or chicken, and staunchly refuse to eat anything other than their cat food) suddenly came begging at the table while we were eating our rabbit. Tobi was first to come - purring and miaowing and generally making it known that something smelled good to eat. After lunch, we took the bones and bits of leftover meat outside, and Teddi joined Tobi in enjoying the pickings. 
Next Saturday's special offer is lasagne, so we can expect the cats to leave us in peace again!